


we looked like giants

by lexiember



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cuddling, Domestic, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Lazy Days, M/M, break ups, but like most of the fic isn't about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexiember/pseuds/lexiember
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it aches sometimes to think about dave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we looked like giants

**Author's Note:**

> this is like a very new thing for me to write hahahah i hope it worked. inspired by [little talks](http://archiveofourown.org/works/539993)

it aches sometimes to think about dave.

you don’t know if it’s in a good or bad way but it hurts deep in your stomach or at the back of your throat and you try to swallow it down but it never works. either you begin to tear up or you smile because some of the mundane little memories you held onto are sweet and worth remembering and others are painful and stabbing still, all this time later.

∙∙∙∙

“green tea?” he offers and you make a face and shake your head because green tea tastes like plants and it’s disgusting. the closest you’ve ever gotten to drinking it is when dave’s just drank a cup laden with sugar and he kisses you and you can taste it but it’s sweet and mixed with dave and that makes it okay.

he dumps three spoonful’s of sugar into his mug which you think kind of takes away with value of a healthy drink but you don’t say anything because you’d probably do the same if you had to drink plant water.

you flop on the couch and flick the tv on while dave lowers himself carefully so as not to spill his drink and then slumps against the back, brining up his knees and resting his steaming mug between his belly and thighs and you can tell it’s going to overheat him because dave’s a sensitive baby when it comes to temperature. you love it in winter when it’s snowing and dave comes out bundled up in three coats, two scarves, a woollen had and thick gloves because he looks ridiculous and you tell him and laugh and he huffs and stuffs his hands in his pockets and ignores you.

he sips his drink even though you know it’s still too hot for him. you channel surf for a while before dave catches sight of dance moms and insists you watch that because it’s so bad it’s good in that kind of way and maybe that’s the way your heart aches now in a way that’s so bad it’s good because at least you know you’re still alive if you can feel pain but just not alive in the same way you were with dave.

∙∙∙∙

dave loves to lather you in affection when you’re on your own in your house, not his apartment because bro could be home at literally any time, he’s so unpredictable. you sit between his spread legs on the floor, back flush against his chest and he presses sweet kisses to your neck which make you giggle because you’re ticklish just about everywhere. his laugh is deep and slow and you love to feel the vibrations of it against you neck when he leans in close, arms looped around your waist. you take his hands in your own and release them again so you can trace his fingers and visible veins beneath his skin because you love to touch him because he’s so warm and alive and he smells exactly how you want to smell so it never leaves you.

“i love you,” he whispers so carefully like the world will come crashing down if he says it wrong.

“yeah,” you say back because you don’t know if you do love him because you’ve never been in love before and it’s all going so fast and it’s honestly a little frightening but you do know that when you think about dave your stomach does little flips and your heart almost stutters because you feel so fucking happy just to know he’s in your life so you say, “i love you too,” because you’re ninety-nine percent sure that you mean it.

∙∙∙∙

your first kiss was with dave when you were fourteen because you don’t count that time when you kissed rose for a dare when you were eleven. you were sat together on your bed talking about something or other, it wasn’t important really and yours hands were just laid on the comforter and dave was fiddling with your fingers in a way that made your stomach do the strange flippy thing and you looked up from your hands and straight into dave’s unshaded eyes and he kissed you right then and there. it was slow and sloppy and not at all how you imagined it or how it was shown in movies but it was perfect anyway because it was with dave.

your lips didn’t move in sync and whatever you tried to do with your tongue didn’t work and your teeth clicked together when you opened your mouths and that hurt but your ignored it and carried on, figuring you could breath through your nose until he pulled away because you certainly weren’t going to first. but you did because despite breathing through your nose the kiss still took your breath away and you had to pull away and you almost felt bad before you saw dave blushing and grinning and all the bad feelings melted away into nothingness.

 

∙∙∙∙

you never made it to your college years like you planned when you were fifteen. he wanted to study photography which you didn’t expect at first because you’d never seen dave take pictures of anything but then he showed you his camera – a huge expensive thing bro bought him – and his collection or polaroid’s he had hidden away. there were hundreds and you sat together on his bed and looked through them all.

as you were laughing at one of the photos of dave posing in front of the mirror a flash went off and you froze with a dumb look on your face to see dave grinning with the polaroid camera in his hands.

“dave!” you shouted dramatically, lunging into his lap to grab the camera before the picture came out.

he just laughed and held the camera out of your reach. finding yourself to face to face with your boyfriend’s smiling face, you kiss him deeply until he makes a little sound in the back of his throat and lowers the camera.

“ha!” you yell as you break off the kiss and grab the camera. there’s still butterflies fluttering away in your belly from the kiss even though you’ve been dating for six months and kissing for five. you haven’t told dave you love him yet because you’re not sure if you do and he hasn’t said it either but when you cuddle up to him on the couch when the movie is getting too boring to pay attention to and rest your head on his lap, his hands immediately find their way into your hair and the way he strokes your scalp and fiddles with the dark strands, you think it’s okay that he hasn’t said it out loud yet because you’re sure he’s thinking it.

you noticed the same photo of you tacked to the wall months later but you never said anything because you didn’t want him to get embarrassed and take it down even though it’s a terrible picture of you in the first place.

∙∙∙∙

you broke up on december 11th but it didn’t ruin your christmas because your dad was in full form and managed to crack a smile out of you even though you felt as if you would break into tears at any second. you text him to say merry christmas but he didn’t respond and you found the present you got him still wrapped in your bottom drawer a month later and you cried when you found it because you were still missing him but not enough to call and beg for forgiveness because, honestly, you never did anything wrong.

“people just grow apart,” your dad said but you never thought once that you and dave would ever grow apart because you still remember the weekends you spent under blankets and in front of the tv, curled up in your own little worlds and so untouchable to the world around you.    

∙∙∙∙

and you’re getting over it, you really are because it only aches sometimes now to think about dave and not the constant throb that once was all you felt.


End file.
